From The Fall
Every once in awhile, something comes along that just pierces through to long-dusty dreams, and I remember, clearly, the bloom and light of youth.
I remember you sitting there in that school bus seat, sun playing with your hair, eyes shy, vulnerable, and behind a sheet of glass put there by my young and fearful mind. You were a vision, not just of beauty but of Hope itself, one I could only gaze at with sad and secret longing.
You live now in Montana, last I heard, and I in Berkeley. That young man and woman are long and mercifully gone; but every once in awhile, when autumn sun hits a leaf just right, or diesel comes with a flash of yellow, I think of you, and remember, and know that young woman and man are purged of all sorrow and fear in the heaven of my memory.
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I love this prose-poem, Matt. Evocative and moving. Perfect for October, especially in those climes (like northern Calfornia and New England) where the changing seasons stir memory and desire.
I remember vaguely a quote from a musician (probably Bono): “When you think we’re singing about women, we’re really signing about God. And when it sounds like we’re singing about God, we’re singing about the women we love.” Memories triggered unexpectedly are like that as well.
Sehnsucht :)
renegadetrad.blogspot.com/2011/02/sehnsucht.html